BEFORE THE CAT MET THE BAT
by Bloatman
Summary: Nolanverse, prequel to Dark Knight Rises. "I was not born into privilege. My childhood was not a fairy tale. I've done many things I'm not proud of and many things that I can't take back. This here is the story of where I came from. It's a story of tragedy and triumph. It's MY story. My name is Selina Kyle and I'm The Catwoman." Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO THE VICTIMS, SURVIVORS, FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS AND COMMUNITY OF AURORA COLORADO, WHO SUFFERED THAT SENSELESS TRAGEDY. MY DEEPEST CONDOLENCES GO OUT TO ALL THOSE WHO HAVE SUFFERED. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman/Catwoman or any related characters that are part of either the DC Comics/Warner Bros films. This is a work of fan fiction. The author received no payment for this story. Please don't sue.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is part of the Nolanverse and is a prequel to Dark Knight Rises. The story focuses on Selina Kyle's back story. **

**BEFORE THE CAT MET THE BAT**

**Prologue**

I was not born into privilege. My childhood was not a fairy tale. My teenage years were no bubbly sitcom. Pink and fluffy, sparkles and glitter, ponies and unicorns, sugar and spice, that's not me at all. The only blessing in my life was my Uncle Jimmy. He was a master cat burglar and taught me everything he knew. He taught me how to survive on the mean streets of Gotham, to be a thief and a fighter. I've done many things I'm not proud of and many things that I can't take back. This here is the story of where I came from. It's a story of tragedy and triumph. It's _MY_ story. My name is Selina Kyle and I'm The Catwoman.

**Chapter 1 – Mother**

When I decided to tell my story, I debated where I should start. After much thought, I decided the best starting point would be the beginning or just before it actually. My mother was a whore. I don't say that in an accusatory, judgmental way, I say it in a factual way. She was a paid lady of the night. As luck would have it, the night I was conceived, her paying customer was none other than Carmine "The Roman" Falcone, Gotham City underworlds Crime Lord. Lucky me, right?

During my mother's pregnancy, she kept my father's identity a secret but just days after my delivery, my mother showed up at the posh Villa where my father conducted his business with me in her arms. Her intention was to blackmail him. She burst in on a meeting between my father and some of his top sergeants and a few of his key associates (one being my beloved Uncle Jimmy) and demanded $10,000. My mother told my father that if he didn't pay the money right then, she would go to the papers and the courts and have him paying child support for eternity, but if he'd give her the money she was asking for right then, she'd disappear forever, never to be heard from again.

My father was not a man to be threatened. He asked my mother to bring me to him, saying that he wanted to hold me. When my mother handed me over, my father drew the revolver that he'd been holding under the table and shot my mother twice in the chest, killing her before she ever hit the ground. Then he ordered his henchmen to take my mother's body away and make sure it was never found. He handed me to Jimmy Tutelly and told Jimmy to "flush it, smother it or whatever you do with those things."

Jimmy left that meeting clutching me in his arms. Jimmy wasn't a killer or a hired gun. He was a thief. Killing wasn't in his nature. Plus, he later told me once he lay eyes on me that he knew he could never bring me harm. He took me to his place. It was a rundown, one room apartment in the slums of the Gotham Narrows. With no electricity and no working water and also no knowledge of how to raise a baby, Uncle Jimmy did the best he could for me. He learned that when if I cried that meant that I was hungry, if I was stinky then my diaper needed to be changed. He said that he was forced to leave me alone when he had a job, but I was a good baby, content to lay on my own. He said most nights when he would return home I'd still be asleep, and then I'd wake up and keep him up all day. He said it was rough at first, but Jimmy Tutelly was an adaptor. It wasn't long before we started to fall into a routine. I know Uncle Jimmy wasn't the ideal, picture-perfect, single parent but he did the best he could for us.

As soon as I was old enough to ask why I didn't have a mommy like other children, Uncle Jimmy told me the full story. He didn't sugar coat it. He didn't leave out the gruesome details. He thought it was important that I knew exactly who my parents were and why I lived with a man I called Uncle Jimmy even though he said we had no real relation. He taught me it was important to know exactly where you came from so you could figure out exactly where you were going.

Revenge was a concept that I grasped at a very, very early age. When most children working on their ABC's and counting to 10, I was plotting to avenge my mother's death, I was planning to murder my father, the man who was half responsible for my existence. I would have daydreams and fantasy's about shooting my father, a man I'd never seen or met. Uncle Jimmy never discouraged these thoughts. He would just warn me that my father was a very important man and not a man who would be easy to kill. Easy or not, it had to be done . . .

**BLOATMAN'S CORNER: Thank you for reading! If you want to read more, PLEASE REVIEW. I have the first three chapters written but I won't bother posting if there is poor response. **

**I will say that I really liked the Dark Knight Rises. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the film.**

**And please check out my other stories if you like. You can get to those through my profile. - Bloatman**


	2. Chapter 2

**THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO THE VICTIMS, SURVIVORS, FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS AND COMMUNITY OF AURORA COLORADO, WHO SUFFERED THAT SENSELESS TRAGEDY. MY DEEPEST CONDOLENCES GO OUT TO ALL THOSE WHO HAVE SUFFERED. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman/Catwoman or any related characters that are part of either the DC Comics/Warner Bros films. This is a work of fan fiction. The author received no payment for this story. Please don't sue.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is part of the Nolanverse and is a prequel to Dark Knight Rises. The story focuses on Selina Kyle's back story. **

**BEFORE THE CAT MET THE BAT**

**CHILDHOOD**

I definitely didn't have what you'd consider a normal childhood. As if being raised by a cat-burglar and knowing that my gangster/crime lord father had murdered my prostitute mother and then ordered a man with whom I have no relation, who I called Uncle Jimmy, to kill me too wasn't enough, then that same man, Uncle Jimmy, took me in and raised me in secret the best that he could; definitely no Leave It To Beaver episode. For most of my early childhood years I was for lack of a better term home schooled. In the early years, Uncle Jimmy, didn't like to take me out in public because he was worried that questions may arise as to where I came from, so I didn't attend school. Uncle Jimmy had very little formal education himself but he taught me the things that he did know. He taught me to read, to write and do basic math.

Uncle Jimmy also taught me the skills of his trade. First he introduced to the art of the pick pocket, giving me subtle pointers or the techniques and scolding any incorrect actions. Over and over he would stress to me the consequences of getting caught. Then he showed me concealment and the lift. Next were evasion and the escape. By age 8 I could get myself out of police grade hand cuffs in mere seconds. What we practiced most though was fitness and stretching. Uncle Jimmy always said that the most important tool in his arsenal was being fit and flexible. As I grew my body was sculpted into a lean, statuesque temple. My Uncle enrolled me into a Master Wu's Martial Arts School, where I learned how to fight; driven by my rage, I excelled.

At age 9 Uncle Jimmy began taking me out to practice the skills he'd shown me. At first, I was frightened, worried that I'd get caught but it take long for me to gather my courage. Uncle Jimmy said that I took to theft like a fish to water. I was good at it too. Really, who would suspect a sweet little 9 year old princess? It wasn't long before Uncle Jimmy was sending me out on my own to "earn my keep".

When I was 12 Uncle Jimmy said I was finally old enough to learn the important stuff. He began teaching me about heists, how to plan them and pull them off and the other skills of a Cat-burglar. Again it wasn't long before I had mastered safe cracking, B&E (Breaking and Entering) and how to deal with alarms and fencing the goods. Again with this new skill set, I excelled. Soon Uncle Jimmy would let me tag along on his jobs with him, showing me the ins and outs. I'd loved it from the get-go.

My first solo heist was a bust, literally. I took the job, thinking that it would be a great way to get my feet wet on my own and maybe even make Uncle Jimmy proud. It should have been a quick lock pick/file swipe from the Acme 187 plant, down in Gotham's shipping district. I had researched well, the factory sat almost vacant at night time. There were two dogs, Dobermans, which patrolled the grounds, and two guards that did sweeps inside the factory itself and one janitor who cleaned the restrooms and break rooms. The file I was looking for was filed away in a fire proof cabinet, located in the Shipping Managers office which was on the ground floor of the warehouse. Entry would be a cinch; the building had multiple skylights that would usually be opened during the days to let the heat escape from the un-air-conditioned plant and then closed at night. Once I'd open the one of the skylights, it would be a quick zip-line to the floor, pick the door lock, pick cabinet lock, grab the file and split. Should be in and out in less than five minutes, a quick $500 cash. On paper it was so, so easy. Well, that's how it should have gone. But here's how it really went:

I arrived at night just like I'd planned. Outside the perimeter fence, I waited for the Doberman's to take notice of me, which did not take long. When they came scrambling to the fence, barking and growling, I threw them two whole chickens that I'd picked up at the grocery on the way here. As the guard dogs fought each other over the new food, I easily scaled the fence and made my way to the building and climbed the exterior ladder to the rough. From one of the central most skylights I could see the door to the office. Using the crowbar I brought, I pried skylight open, tied off my zip-line to one of the air vents protruding for the roof, tossed the line in the opening and down I went. I quickly traversed the factory floor to the office door, gave a quick look around to make sure that I hadn't been seen, reached for the knob and to my satisfaction, it wasn't even locked! _This is going great!_ I remember thinking.

When I opened the door and entered the office that's when everything went to shit. Sure, I could see the fire proof file cabinet, but only the very top of it. Someone had placed one of those massive floor freezers directly in front of the cabinet denying me access. Now for a 12 year old girl, I was strong, really strong but I was still just a 12 year old girl. My weight, size and strength versus the weight and mass of the freezer didn't add up in my favor. I should have just walked away then, came back another night with Uncle Jimmy, but I was too proud and determined to do that. I wasn't going to go running to Uncle Jimmy just because there was a hiccup in my plan. I would get that file come hell or high water.

I grabbed the freezer and pushed with all my might, using the wall for leverage and it moved! It moved about two inches, the problem is that as it moved it made an extremely loud scraping scraping sound on the concrete floor. _SRZCZZNHZ!_ Each time I pushed the sound ring out. I closed the office door, hoping that would trap the noise in the office so that only I could hear. _The guards probably are nowhere around otherwise they'd be in here now._ I lied to myself. Finally I decided that it was now more important to be quick than quiet (which went against everything that Uncle Jimmy had told me) and I just kept pushing, over and over, with all my might until I'd moved the freezer far enough for me to pick the lock on the cabinet and retrieve the file.

By the time I had the file in my hand ready to leave, I was dripping sweat, my heart was racing and my muscles were fatigued. All I wanted to do was get as far away from the factory as I could, as quickly as I could. I flung open the door to the office and went to race to my zip-line to exit, but before I could take even one step; I was whacked on my head, hard. My vision blurred and my knees crumpled below me as I fell to the ground, scattering the papers in the file all over the warehouse floor. I could taste the metallic taste of my own blood as it ran from the wound in my head onto my lips and into my mouth.

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was the Janitor yelling for the security guards, "Fred! Joe! Come quick! We have robber and I think I killed her!" I'd been knocked out by the Janitor's broom. Ugh!

**BLOATMAN'S CORNER: Guys and Gals, soooo sorry about the delay in posting. I had computer trouble all week that kept me from working on and posting my stories. I promise the posts will be more frequent! **

**Please be on the lookout for the Chapter 3 – Murderous Intent (coming soon!)**

**Thank you all for reading and please keep the reviews coming! I really appreciate them - Bloatman**


	3. Chapter 3

**THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO THE VICTIMS, SURVIVORS, FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS AND COMMUNITY OF AURORA COLORADO, WHO SUFFERED THAT SENSELESS TRAGEDY. MY DEEPEST CONDOLENCES GO OUT TO ALL THOSE WHO HAVE SUFFERED. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman/Catwoman or any related characters that are part of either the DC Comics/Warner Bros films. This is a work of fan fiction. The author received no payment for this story. Please don't sue.**

**BEFORE THE CAT MET THE BAT**

**The Escape**

As if getting busted by the janitor wasn't bad enough, waking up in the hospital room with two police guards and a pounding headache was the pits. The only good thing, if you can call it that, was the docs diagnosed me with a massive concussion which meant I'd have to stay in the hospital overnight delaying my booking at the police station. The cops and even the social worker they brought in had all the standard questions for me: Who are you? Where do you live? What's your parent's names? Just as Uncle Jimmy had taught me, mum was the word. They could ask all night long but I wasn't telling them anything. Much to my dismay, since I wasn't answering their questions, they finger printed me. I knew they'd be able to track me back to my birth and get my name and my dead mother's name but not much else. However, I would've much preferred that they had nothing on me. Uncle Jimmy always said that staying off the grid was our secret to survival and to success.

Close to the break of dawn, a new officer came to replace the other two officers who had been left to guard me. This officer chose to wait just outside my hospital room as opposed to in it. The moment I was alone in the room, I crawled out of bed and searched for my clothes. Apparently they'd been taking from me while I was unconscious, leaving me in only a pale blue hospital gown that tied in the back and my panties. My clothes, including my shoes were nowhere to be found. They'd more than likely been taken as a deterrent to keep me from trying to escape. I wouldn't care if I had to run all the way home completely naked, I wasn't giving up that easy.

As silent as a cat, I tip-toed to the window, looking out I saw I was on the 7th floor. The hospitals exterior walls were straight and smooth with nowhere to grip so climbing down was not an option. If only I had my zip-line, I could repel down and disappear within seconds but that had also been confiscated, along my other tools too. I contemplated trying a mad dash past the officer waiting outside my room, hoping my speed and agility would be enough to lose him and get away, but that didn't seem like a viable option. Maybe if I'd been conscious when I was brought in, but since I was not, I did not get the layout or have any familiarity with my surroundings. It would be simple blind luck, if I got free that way. No, I needed something better, something more concrete than just hope and luck.

In the movies, the prisoners would usually break out of jail by tunneling their way out. While tunneling to the floor below wasn't a feasible plot, I'd need a jackhammer and a few hours, but in prison they didn't have Styrofoam ceilings, the hospital did. I would tunnel my way out via ceiling. I climbed onto the orange Hazardous Waste box that was securely attached to the wall, pushed up a ceiling tile and hoisted myself onto an air duct that ran between the floors, being very careful to replace the displaced tile. Hopefully the confusion would buy me the precious seconds I needed to get away.

The air duct held me but just barely, which made my progress slow going. Also it gave off the occasional groan under my weight. I prayed that I would come crashing through the ceiling and into the waiting arms of the cops. My moving was slow going. I knew that rushing it and causing all the racket I had back at the Acme warehouse is what caused me to get caught in the first place; lesson learned. I wouldn't make that mistake again.

Once I'd traveled what I assumed was a safe distance, maybe 50 yards or so, I reached down and lifted one of the ceiling tiles under me, just slightly, and peaked into the room below. It was a patient's room; almost identical to the one I'd just came except for the elderly patient, sleeping away in the bed. Using my upper body strength and all the body control I could muster, I slowly lowered myself into a hanging position, took one last deep breath and dropped to the ground, as quietly as possible. The old man never so much as flinched. I crept to the cabinets, retrieved an outfit and put it on. The clothes hung on me like elephant skin, big and bulky. I had to cuff the pants three large cuffs so they wouldn't drag the ground. I slid on his socks and shoes, and then I retrieved his wallet, including a little cash and a few credit cards, and his cell phone.

As I left the room, I could see the officer in the hallway down by my room. He was playing on his phone. I glanced around until I found the elevator not more than twenty feet ahead. I moved on instincts, never giving a fleeting thought to my actions, as I crossed the floor to the elevator, pressing the down button. After what felt like an eternity the doors opened and I went into the elevator; glancing back the cop was still enthralled by whatever he was seeing on his phone.

As I was leaving the hospital, I strolled passed two security guards, neither of whom seemed to find a young girl, dressed in clothes four times too big for her, leaving the hospital, alone, at four in the morning anything to raise even an eyebrow at. Once outside, even though I'd lifted the old man's cash, I didn't take a cab or the subway. I didn't want to leave a trail that the cops could track to follow me back to my house. I kept mostly to the back alleys as best as I could, avoiding the police at all costs.

I arrived back at my apartment building, well after the sun had risen. The walk had taken hours to complete. When I got to the front door of mine and Uncle Jimmy's apartment, I'd never been so happy to be back at that dump. The door was locked and since I didn't have my key, I used one of the old man's credit cards to pull a quick B&E on my own house. The moment the door opened I could tell something was wrong. Everything was gone, as in _completely _gone! I ran from room to room, looking for Uncle Jimmy, calling his name but my own echo was the only response. Uncle Jimmy had packed all of our stuff and split. There was no note, no clue. He'd never told me where to find him if something like this happened.

In a panic, I pulled the old man's cell phone from pocket and must've dialed Uncle Jimmy's number 20 times. He never answered. I left message after message. I don't know how long it took for me to realize what had happened but when I did I lost it. Uncle Jimmy must've known that I'd been busted and he was worried that I was going to rat him out to the police and he bailed on me, taking all our stuff, _my stuff too_, everything and left, leaving no trace of evidence that could be used to track him down. _Stay off the grid Selina_ is what he always told me.

I sat there in the middle of what had been our home and cried. Everything that I'd ever known was now lost to me. The only person I'd ever loved had left. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. I was now totally alone and I had no idea what to do next.

**BLOATMAN'S CORNER: THANK YOU FOR READING! **

**Wow. . . Selina is all alone. What do you think? **

**So at the end of Chapter 2 I told you the next chapter was entitled Murderous Intent but this chapter is Escape. What happened, right? I decided to split the chapter in half because it was way too long for just one posting. Next Chapter will be Murderous Intent. Some crazy stuff goes down in that one! I hope to post it soon!**

**Please leave a review, they're what we FanFiction writers write for on here. Also, if you really enjoy this story please add it to your alerts and favorites. And if you run across any cool Batman stories on here while you're browsing, please clue me in so I can check them out too! - **_**Bloatman**_


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